


Feelin Nauti

by wanderingflame



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sailing, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingflame/pseuds/wanderingflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“A sailboat?” Bucky says skeptically.  </em>
</p><p>  <em>“Yeah.  Tony says it’s a small cruising boat, good for going up the coast and back.” Steve is sitting at one end of the couch, turned to face Bucky, who’d sat in the middle.  </em></p><p>  <em>“Why a boat?” </em></p><p>  <em>“I think he loves his cars too much to part with them for long,” Steve says, and when Bucky scowls at the non-answer, Steve raises his hands.  “Honestly, I don’t know why.  He said Pepper’s been on him to either donate or sell the boat because they never use it.”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Feelin Nauti

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this on [Ark](http://et-in-arkadia.tumblr.com), who shared with me a conversation about Bucky and Steve sailing an actual ship. I also owe her greatly for cheering me on when I faltered in writing this. 
> 
> Sorry for the all the boat puns.

It starts with Tony Stark. 

Bucky knows of the man, even if he hasn’t met him. He doesn’t remember much of his father Howard, but Steve reassures him that won’t be an issue with Tony. He’s also quick to explain that he hasn’t known Tony long, but he seems like a good man. Bucky almost points out that Steve also thinks the former Winter Soldier is a good man, so that’s not exactly high praise, but bites back the comment at the last second. Not only would the words earn him one of Steve’s classic disappointed frowns, they’re untrue. Steve is a great judge of character, just not when it comes to one James Buchanan Barnes. 

They’re watching tv when Steve mentions the call he had earlier that day with Stark. Bucky had overheard some of the conversation, but not enough to know what it was about; his name had been mentioned, though, so he’s wary. He’s certainly not expecting Steve’s explanation. 

“A sailboat?” Bucky says skeptically. 

“Yeah. Tony says it’s a small cruising boat, good for going up the coast and back.” Steve is sitting at one end of the couch, turned to face Bucky, who’d sat in the middle. 

“Why a boat?” 

“I think he loves his cars too much to part with them for long,” Steve says, and when Bucky scowls at the non-answer, Steve raises his hands. “Honestly, I don’t know why. He said Pepper’s been on him to either donate or sell the boat because they never use it.”

That still doesn’t explain lending it to friends, but Bucky decides to try a different tactic. “You don't know the first thing about sailing.”

Steve shrugs, undeterred. “It sounds fun.”

“What if there's another alien attack, or some other emergency they need Captain America for?”

If Bucky were honest with himself, he’d admit this is a question that’s been festering in the back of his mind for a while. Not that he begrudges Steve his new friends, but there are days when Bucky wakes up feeling like the only thing keeping him together is Steve. The bad days are less frequent than they used to be, but he hates them, hates feeling like a weight dragging Steve down. He’s also not thrilled about Steve rushing off into danger while Bucky hides at home. 

Steve tilts his head, confusion creeping into his expression. “I'm not the only person on the team, Buck. If that's your only excuse not to go, I'll have Tony rig some way to call us, if they need to.”

Bucky slouches further into the couch, eyes locked on the tv. They’re watching the travel channel, of all things, because there’s a channel for every damn thing in this day and age. The narrator is currently explaining all the great sights to see in Mexico City, but all Bucky remembers is a motel room where he took a man’s life more brutally than was necessary. 

Steve, unaware, lets the show fill the silence for a few minutes before trying again. “If you're not up for sailing, we could always make that trip out to the Grand--”

“No.” The word comes out clipped as Bucky suddenly sits up, back tense. 

He’s already unsettled by the memories churning in his head, but that’s not why he rejects the idea outright. In part, it's because that dream belonged to another man, a Bucky he is only the shadow of. The thought of crowds also bothers him; the press of people all around, not knowing if an enemy lurks among them. Hydra is still out there, and though they seem to have given up looking for the Winter Soldier, he doubts they’d welcome him with open arms. Not to mention what they’d do to Steve. The idea of going out into their midst makes Bucky's skin crawl and his fingers itch for a weapon. He’s been careful enough in New York, avoiding crowds when he can. 

He realizes he's sitting on the edge of the couch, fingers clenching the cushion as he fights the anxiety rising within him. He glances at Steve, who has that wounded look on his face, the one he tries to hide, unsuccessfully, on Bucky’s worst days. It's a look that makes Bucky want to break something.

“Sorry,” he says and forces himself to sit back. He exhales slowly, making a conscious effort to relax his muscles one by one. It's a trick he's used to center himself before taking a shot. That thought doesn't help much, but the exercise does, returning him to a semblance of normal. “Not...not there.”

“Okay,” Steve says quietly and drops the subject. 

Bucky tries to lose himself in the show--the narrator has moved on to a new part of Mexico, thankfully--but the silence is awkward, like it hasn't been in weeks. Steve's confusion at the outburst, and how to move past it, is palpable.

At the next commercial break, Bucky stands and heads into the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

“Uh, sure.”

When he returns, bottles in hand, he drops down next to Steve, close enough that Steve shifts his arm to the back of the couch so they don't bump elbows. He passes over one of the beers and Steve says nothing about Bucky crowding him, not even to point out the metal arm is between them. 

The narrator drones on. After a few minutes, Bucky feels a gentle touch on his neck. Steve's fingers brush against the skin there, silently asking permission. When Bucky doesn't move away, Steve kneads more firmly at still-tense muscles, until Bucky begins to relax.

The silence between them now is comfortable, but Bucky’s still guilty over his reaction. He wants to tell Steve “fine, pick somewhere and we'll go, wherever you think is good,” but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he presses close, letting his head drop to Steve's shoulder. It's not much in the way of apologies, but Steve presses a kiss to Bucky's hair and that's enough to show he understands.

They don’t speak of travel for the rest of the night, but Bucky fully expects the conversation will continue to next day. Instead, they follow their usual morning routine and not once does Steve suggest leaving the apartment for anything other than groceries. A few days pass like this and Bucky watches and waits. Steve has never given up, never backed down from a fight when he thought he was right. 

But he doesn’t say a word. 

~~

A week after Stark’s call, it’s a morning like any other. Steve pulls on clothes to go for a run and pauses by the bed, invitation unspoken. Bucky waves him off, mumbling, “Wore me out last night, Rogers.” He cracks an eye open to see the blush his words bring to Steve’s cheeks. He loves that as much as they’ve both changed, teasing Steve about sex is still so easy. 

Steve crouches by the bed for one last kiss before he slips out the door. Bucky dozes off after hearing the lock click and wakes to the sound of his phone ringing. Assuming it’s Steve, he answers without checking the screen. “Yeah?”

“So when are you and the Cap'n gonna make this happen? _Knotty Girl_ is gathering dust out here, you know.”

“...what?”

“ _Knotty Girl_. Came with the name, not my choice. I kinda like _Oar Play_ myself. That’s an ‘a’, not an ‘e’, but maybe you’d prefer the metal pun. By the way, is that what’s causing the hold up? Because I can make your arm waterproof if it's not already. I kind of thought it was, but Steve won’t let me take a look so I wouldn't know one way or the other.”

There's only one person who’d be calling to make boat puns, _and_ who would be interested in Bucky’s arm. Steve had mentioned it once, hesitantly, as if unsure how Bucky would take the offer. “If you ever need repairs, I know someone who could help and who could be trusted.” He left out the part where Stark was an annoying rambler.  
Bucky struggles to sit up in bed, annoyed by all the questions. “How the fuck did you get this number?”

“Please.” Stark’s smugness practically drips through the phone. “Has Steve really not mentioned JARVIS, or that I'm a genius? I'm hurt.”

“Stark,” Bucky growls. “What do you _want_?”

“For you to _live a little_ ,” the other man answers, making it sound obvious. Bucky almost crushes the phone. “You can still be tall, dark and broody with a tan. Actually, _can_ you tan? Or does the super juice counteract that?” There's a crash in the background. “Dummy, what are you—did I say to clean that up? No, I didn't, and this is why.” He sighs. “Look, the boat’s out here whenever you two are ready for your honeymoon.” There's no click—not in this day and age—but the abrupt silence tells Bucky that Stark has hung up. He drops the phone in his lap before he really does crush it.

By the time Steve returns, Bucky has showered, made coffee, and stands in the kitchen stewing over Stark's words. Setting aside the not-so-subtle jabs, it doesn’t seem like Stark has any ulterior motives for lending them the boat. Not that Bucky knows the man well enough to guess his motives, but he’s good at analyzing threats, and Stark doesn’t register as one. 

He tries to smooth his expression into something neutral when he hears the key in the lock; it's easy to smile once Steve comes in.

“Hey.” His shirt is damp with sweat and he beams at Bucky, like finding him in the kitchen has made his day. He holds up a paper bag. “I bought bagels.” He crosses the kitchen and sets the food on the counter, leaning closer to Bucky with a question in his eyes. Bucky feels a rush of fond exasperation—that Steve still feels the need to telegraph his intentions—and closes the distance to kiss him. His lingering irritation from Stark's call drains away as he welcomes Steve home.

Steve's cheeks are pink when he pulls away. “Let me grab a shower and then we can eat.”

“Sure.” Bucky watches Steve head down the hall. He's still annoyed with Stark but finding it harder to resent the idea of a trip. Being stuck on a boat, alone with Steve for a week, could have its advantages. 

When Steve comes back in, hair wet and cheeks still pink, Bucky waits for his attention to be occupied with setting out breakfast before saying, “We can take that boat out, if you want.”

Steve pauses, looking up with a slight furrow in his brow. “What changed your mind?” Bucky shrugs, hoping Steve will accept that. Instead, the other man sighs. “Did Tony contact you?” 

“What?”

“Did he call to bug you about the boat?” Steve carries the plates with bagels to their tiny kitchen table and Bucky follows with the schmears. Steve's smile is sympathetic. “It's something he would do.”

“I just... I thought you wanted to,” Bucky says, frustrated with this unexpected turn in the conversation. 

“I want to take a trip with _you_ ,” Steve says simply. “I'm not picky how or where, so long as you enjoy it, too.”

Bucky stares at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “You’re an unbelievable sap. Does your team know that?”

Steve bumps his knee against Bucky’s under the table, grinning around a mouthful of bagel. Bucky tries to scowl but gives up when it has no effect on Steve’s good mood. He puts a bagel on his plate and reaches for the schmear. “Tell Stark we'll take his stupid boat. He'll never leave us alone if we don't.”

~~

Bucky expects they’ll leave the next day, especially once they tell Stark, but Steve doesn’t want to go without making sure they’re prepared. To this end, he buys half a dozen books on sailing to study before they leave. Over the next week, Bucky finds himself nodding off more than once listening to Steve ramble about what he’s learned. 

Stark arranges for them to fly out to California on one of his private jets. The way the man throws wealth around rankles some, but privately Bucky is grateful to avoid the cramped quarters of economy class. During the flight, he tries to convince Steve to join the “mile high club”, which he first has to explain. He’d be disappointed that Steve turns him down, except the expression on his face--shock, embarrassment, and the telltale flush that says he’s a little aroused--is priceless. 

It’s warmer on the west coast so Bucky earns a few curious looks because of his long-sleeves as they exit the airport. He shoves his hands deeper in his pockets and ignores the stares. Steve is wearing a ballcap and glasses, and as ridiculous as Bucky thinks it is for a disguise, no one seems to recognize him. Either it really does work, or no one out here knows Captain America. Both seem unlikely options. 

From what Bucky knows of Stark, he half-expects a limo to be waiting for them, but instead it's the man himself in a bright red convertible, signing an autograph for the cop who should probably be ticketing him for being illegally parked. 

“And _there_ are my friends,” Stark says when he notices them. He passes the ticketbook to the officer and waves. “Cap! Long time no see. Just throw your stuff in the back.”

Steve tries to offer Bucky the front seat, but he just gives Steve a look and climbs into the back, hoping to avoid conversation. He sits behind Stark, but sees the man watching him in the rearview mirror. Expensive sunglasses hide Stark’s eyes, making it hard to judge his expression. 

Steve puts their duffel bags beside Bucky and drops into the front seat, but his seatbelt has barely clicked into place when Stark throws the car into gear and floors it. The exasperated look Steve shoots over his shoulder tells Bucky this is normal behavior. Bucky tries to hang on without crushing anything, though the idea is an appealing one once Stark opens his mouth again. 

“You know, if you’re looking to lose the grunge look, I could probably develop something to mask your arm,” the man says as they’re tearing down the highway. He tosses it out casually, despite having to yell to be heard. 

“Tony,” Steve begins. 

“I’m serious! Not just trying to get a look at his arm, I swear. Scout’s honor.” 

“Right.” There’s an unhappy twist to Steve’s mouth; Bucky is reminded of when he would square off against the local bully. “Because you’re not at all interested in how Hydra’s technology could improve your suits.”

“I’m a changed man, Steve, no time for tinkering. Besides”--he takes his gaze off the road for a disturbingly long moment to look at Bucky in the mirror--“can your arm fire missiles? No?” He checks the road then glances at Steve. “Score one for America. Sorry, Barnes.”

Bucky snorts, surprised to be fighting back a smile. Stark’s mannerisms are grating but there’s an honesty behind his words that he grudgingly respects. 

“I was serious about the offer, though.” 

Bucky’s gaze flickers to the mirror and he sees he’s being watched again. “I’ll think about it.”

Steve twists around in his seat, but Bucky looks away from his look of surprise. He said he’d think about it, not that he’d allow it. Stark leaves him alone for the rest of the trip, catching Steve up on people Bucky’s only heard of second hand. There’s mention of a tower, but Bucky’s not really listening. Instead, he watches the glittering sea stretch on beside them and lets his thoughts wander. 

~~

The harbor they arrive at is much larger than Bucky had expected, but Stark leads them out into the maze of boats without hesitation. He’s fiddling with his phone, so Bucky’s not sure how he knows where he’s going, but eventually he stops and waves at the boat tied to the end of the pier they’re on. “May I present to you the _Knotty Girl_.” 

Steve sputters and Bucky has to cover his snicker with a cough. Apparently Stark had never mentioned the boat’s name. Bucky hasn’t said, mostly because he doesn’t want to admit Stark’s phone call convinced him to go, even if Steve suspects as much. 

As Steve fumbles with a response, Bucky realizes he’s being watched again by Stark. He braces for another irritating comment but it never comes. Whatever Stark sees, he just nods, and then he’s striding towards the boat, waving for Steve to follow. 

Bucky lags behind, eyeing the craft dubiously. It’s roughly thirty feet long, with near-pristine sails and a hull so polished and gleaming, he wonders if it’s ever been used. It’s hard to picture Stark at the helm, especially in his three-piece suit. Bucky would’ve expected something larger, more luxurious and outfitted for comfort. 

As he watches the water lap against the hull, he still can’t believe this is happening. His most recent memories of being in water aren’t pleasant. Pieces of helicarrier raining down around him, panic squeezing his chest, eyes stinging as he strove to reach that hint of blue in the gloom below. 

“Bucky?”

He blinks and realizes Steve has boarded the boat and Stark stands at the bow. Bucky has come to a stop halfway down the pier and now they’re both watching him. His hand aches from gripping the handle of his duffel and he flushes self-consciously, trying to shove aside the memories that threaten to overwhelm him. 

Steve takes a step as if to get off the boat, but Bucky forces himself to move, reaching Tony in four long strides. He throws the duffel harder than he intends--Steve looks surprised but he doesn’t fumble the catch--then launches himself off the pier to land beside Steve. The craft rocks under the sudden weight but remains afloat. 

When Bucky turns, Tony’s eyebrows are visible above the rim of his glasses. “Wow, you stuck the landing! Very impressive.” He pulls his phone out as he heads back down the dock, giving them a distracted wave. “Call if you hit an iceberg.”

Bucky frowns but a hand on his shoulder halts whatever he would have said. When he glances back, he’s met by a blinding smile. Steve is so ridiculously excited that for a moment, Bucky sees another Steve--shorter and skinnier, younger too--grinning the same way. The memory is too foggy for Bucky to recall the reason for his excitement, but it brings with it a fondness that takes the place of his irritation at Stark. 

He gestures at the wheel. “Well, whaddaya waiting for, Captain? Take us out.” 

Steve finishes prepping the boat for departure while Bucky stows their bags in the little cabin. It’s small but not claustrophobically so. Enough room for them both to stretch out and sit up without banging their heads. _Not too different from sleeping in tents_ , he thinks. There’s even a little cubby for the nonperishable food they brought to tide them over between stops along the coast. 

By the time he scoots out of the cabin, Steve has the boat turned and headed for open water. Bucky drops down on the bench seat behind Steve, catching sight of the bracelet he’s wearing. It’s not much more than a thin band of metal with a small LED light at the center. 

“In case the Avengers need to contact us,” Steve explains, when he catches Bucky looking “Or if we need them for some reason.” 

Bucky nods and goes back to staring out across the water. The breeze feels nice. He pushes his right sleeve up to enjoy more of it, leaving his left arm covered for now. The gentle motion of the boat as it cuts through the water is strangely soothing. It’s unlike anything he’s felt in the last seventy years. There’s no mission it calls to mind, no memory soaked in blood. He’s free to close his eyes and enjoy this moment guilt-free. 

“Hey Buck, can you take over?” Steve’s voice, slightly strained, flips a switch in Bucky. The calm vanishes as he jumps to his feet, looking around for the threat. The only other craft nearby is a jet ski doing lazy donuts. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky’s fingers close around the wheel and Steve immediately dives away. Bucky’s heart leaps and he’s hit with the irrational fear that Steve’s going overboard. Instead, as soon as Steve hits the rail, he throws up over the side. 

Bucky stares, struck dumb by the sight. The wake from the jet ski’s antics reaches them, causing their boat to rock slightly. Steve retches again. 

Bucky cuts the motor, wincing when the abrupt drop in speed makes Steve groan. He can’t help the disbelief that fills his voice when he says, “Are you...are you seasick?”

Steve shoots a glare over his shoulder but its ferocity is lessened by the grimace that crosses his face when the boat rocks again. Between Steve’s expression and the absolute absurdity of Captain America getting seasick, of all things, something in Bucky cracks. He starts laughing, quiet chuckles at first that grow into full-fledged hoots. He has to hang on to the wheel to stay on his feet, and tears wet his cheeks by the time the mirth subsides. He hasn’t laughed that hard since before he went to war. 

Steve is still clinging to the rail, pale and miserable, but smiling faintly as he watches Bucky collect himself. Bucky tries not to think too much on the expression on his face, instead asking, “Did you bring any medicine for motion sickness?” 

Steven’s mouth turns down in a near-pout. “No. I didn’t think it would be a problem.” 

“Guess some things haven’t changed.” Steve swats at him but Bucky easily steps out of range. He ducks into their cabin to dig out a bottle of water. They’re far enough from the harbor’s exit that Bucky doesn’t think they’ll be in anyone’s way. The jet ski appears to be heading back to the dock, so the water around them has calmed. 

Bucky drops onto the seat, passing Steve the water so he can rinse his mouth out. When that’s done, he pulls Steve back against his chest and wraps an arm loosely around his waist. He curls his left hand against the back of Steve’s neck, smiling when the other man relaxes into the touch. 

“Feels good,” he mumbles, eyes closed. 

Bucky thought it might, since the metal is cool to the touch. “Enjoy it while it lasts, pal. It usually heats up quick with as warm as you run.” Steve just grumbles in response and covers Bucky’s arm with his own. 

They stay like that for a couple of hours. The boat bobs gently in the water, moving with the occasional wave, and Bucky can feel Steve tense each time. It’s warm in the sun, but holding Steve like this reminds Bucky of the old days. Steve’s not nearly as small as he once was, but if Bucky hides his face in Steve’s hair and closes his eyes, he can pretend. 

Ever since he dragged himself out of the Potomac and found his way to Steve’s door, Bucky’s been the one who needed taking care of. And while Steve’s never once complained--instead, overjoyed that his friend came back at all--Bucky’s missed this. He’s missed feeling needed in a way he hasn’t been since Steve took the serum. 

When Bucky’s left hand warms, he dips his fingers in the water before returning them to the nape of Steve’s neck. Steve sighs and leans into the touch, which just makes Bucky curl around him tighter. 

He thinks they both doze off at some point, lulled by the sun and the breeze. Bucky opens his eyes when Steve stirs, blinking against brightness as the other man slowly sits up. A quick check of their surroundings shows they haven’t drifted too far from where they stopped. 

Steve runs a hand through his hair and flashes Bucky a sheepish smile. “I think I’m okay now. Thanks.” 

“Have you ever been on a boat this small?” 

“Nope.” Steve gets to his feet, jaw tightening when the boat rocks slightly. “Wasn’t going to let that stop me.” Bucky watches him, ready in case he dives for the side again, but Steve stays standing. He’s probably holding himself up through sheer stubbornness of will. 

Bucky waits until they’re moving towards open water again and then joins him at the wheel. He slides his left hand up under Steve’s shirt against the small of his back. He’s not sure if it helps with the seasickness, but the smile Steve gives him convinces Bucky to leave his hand where it is. 

~~ 

Outside the harbor, the wind picks up and Steve hurries to raise the sails; the movement of the boat is forgotten in his excitement. He puts Bucky at the helm and a few minutes later there’s a crack as the sails snap taut. The boat practically leaps forward and Steve lets out a whoop. When he takes over at the wheel, he’s grinning like an idiot. Bucky can’t help but grin back. 

They don’t make it as far up the coast as they’d originally planned, but Bucky finds it hard to be disappointed after several hours racing along with a strong wind at their backs. When it finally abandons them short of their goal, Steve drops the anchor, ties up the sail, and then collapses onto the seat next to Bucky. 

His hair’s a mess, sticking up in all directions, and his cheeks and nose are pink from the sun. Bucky’s hair is tied back but he can tell from the tightness of his skin that he’s also a little burned. 

“Not too bad, right?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, other than you getting sick at the start.” He smirks at Steve’s scowl. “Think Stark’ll make us pay for cleaning?” 

“I didn’t get any on the boat!” 

“Okay, fine, but if you throw up on me tonight, I’m tossing you overboard.” 

Steve turns to punch him in the shoulder, but Bucky catches his fist with one hand. This leads to playful scuffling on the floor of the boat, which rocks the craft more than Bucky intends. He suddenly finds himself on his back, looking up at Steve, who’s gone pale and still. Bucky has a fleeting moment to wonder if he’s about to eat his words, but then Steve drops his head to Bucky’s chest and just breathes in and out slowly. As the boat steadies, the fists clenched in Bucky’s shirt relax.

When he’s sure the danger has passed, Bucky raises a hand to ruffle Steve’s hair lightly. “I’m not kidding about tossing you out if you get sick.” 

“Jerk,” Steve mumbles, but when he lifts his head, he’s smiling. “I oughta do it just for that.” 

Bucky’s retort is cut off by a gurgling, which he realizes is Steve’s stomach. When his own stomach growls a response, he wonders what time it is. “Think you could eat?”

“If you can stop rocking the boat,” Steve says, climbing carefully back onto the seat. At least his tone is teasing and his color has returned. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky ducks into the cabin to dig out the food they’d packed. 

~~

Later, he wonders if the motion of the boat will keep Steve from sleeping, but when they turn in for the night, Steve presses his face against Bucky’s shoulder and is asleep in seconds. It takes Bucky much longer--their “bed” is moving, his surroundings are unfamiliar--but eventually he drifts to sleep. 

He doesn’t wake up screaming, which he’s thankful for. In the past, he hasn’t reacted well to waking up to new surroundings, but the feel of Steve beside him is a familiar comfort. As he lies there, staring at the ceiling of the cabin and listening to Steve breathe, Bucky wonders again about Stark and the boat. He didn’t seem like a man who enjoyed roughing it. Maybe Bucky had underestimated him. 

Steve wakes up as Bucky is trying to disentangle himself, and they leave the cabin to see what the weather is like. The wind is up so they change clothes, eat a quick breakfast, and then Bucky helps Steve untie and retie the sails. For all that he had pretended to ignore Steve’s rambling in the days leading up to the trip, clearly some of it had sunk in. 

~~

The next seven days are a learning experience for both of them. 

They learn that Steve’s seasickness is as stubborn as he is, but he refuses to let it cast a shadow on their trip. There are a few times where he has to sit with his head between his knees, Bucky rubbing his back until he’s better, but there are no more incidents like when they first began the trip. 

Neither of them develop lasting tans but it’s unclear if that’s because of the Super Soldier serum, or the amount of suntan lotion they slather on each other daily. It’s during the second day of their trip that Steve pulls off his shirt and convinces Bucky to do the same. Tension creeps into his shoulders as he stands at the wheel, even if there’s no one for miles to see. Steve ducks into the cabin and then comes out bearing a bright orange bottle of suntan lotion. 

“Never hurts to be too careful, right?” He might get away with the innocent tone if not for the playful glint in his blue eyes. 

“Uh huh,” Bucky says, deciding to play along. 

It doesn’t take long for Steve’s focus to shift from coating Bucky in sunscreen, to driving him crazy with teasing fingers and lips. Bucky’s wound so tight by the time Steve takes him into his mouth, he’s amazed he doesn’t break the wheel off when he comes. He allows himself a minute to catch his breath and then maneuvers Steve to stand at the helm. 

“Your turn,” he murmurs and it’s half-promise, half-threat. 

By the end of the trip, Bucky’s pretty sure he’s developed an almost Pavlovian reaction to the smell of sunscreen because of what always follows. 

~~

If they wake early enough, they can watch dolphins playing farther out in the water as the sun rises. Bucky’s never seen anything quite like it, and he’s surprised that the sight alone makes his throat tight. 

“Think we’ll see a whale?” Steve asks in a hushed voice, the first time it happens. They’re pressed close against the rail, watching the fins slip in and out of the glittering water. He sounds so young and awestruck that Bucky has to look at him to remind himself what year it is. 

“Wouldn’t that be something,” he whispers back. 

They’re groggily dragging themselves out of the cabin on the sixth morning when movement in the distance catches Bucky’s eye. Even this far away, the hump cresting the water is huge. Bucky catches Steve’s arm and points, just in time to see the tail flip up. A second later, there’s a spray of water and a second, smaller hump surfaces. The whales appear a couple more times, getting farther away each time, before disappearing out of sight. 

They get a late start that day, mostly because neither seems willing to break the spell cast by what they’ve seen. 

~~

Bucky completely forgets about the tracking bracelet Stark gave them until he unintentionally activates it one night. 

They’ve taken to watching the stars come out and arguing over the names of the constellations, but eventually they retreat to the cabin. Steve’s just gotten his shirt off when Bucky pushes him back against the blankets, crawling forward to straddle his hips. He strips his own shirt off, unsurprised when Steve’s hands slide up his chest immediately. It’s nice, but not what he had in mind tonight. 

Bucky catches Steve’s wrists, pulling his hands away to press them to either side of Steve’s head, squeezing with calculated pressure. He can feel the other man’s pulse leap beneath his right hand--the left isn’t as sensitive--and he grins. Steve could probably force himself free if he wanted to, but after tensing against Bucky’s grip, he relaxes. The cabin door is open and the moonlight illuminates his slow smile. Heat curls in Bucky’s stomach at the sight. 

As he leans down, Steve raises his head, intending to meet Bucky for the kiss he expects. Instead, Bucky turns to press his lips to Steve’s throat, just below his jaw. He can feel Steve’s frustrated huff, but the sound quickly turns into a moan when Bucky sucks harder on the skin beneath his lips. 

He’s made his way down to Steve’s collarbone, teeth scraping lightly as he rocks their hips together, when a prim, accented voice says, very dryly, _“Sirs, shall I inform Mr. Stark that the activation was an accident and that the Iron Man suit is not needed at this time?”_

Bucky almost smashes through the roof of their little home in his haste to get off Steve and find the speaker. His left arm whirrs, recalibrating for an attack, even as he fumbles for the knife he’d hidden. Steve swears more colorfully than Bucky ever remembers hearing and holds up his wrist. The blue light emanating from the bracelet fills the cabin. 

“Yes! Keep Tony away,” Steve snaps. 

_“Very good, sir. Is there anything I can help with, while I'm available?”_

“No! Just, just turn off, JARVIS. We're fine.”

 _“Understood, sir.”_ The light winks out, leaving them in darkness.

Bucky’s still tense from the interruption and he twitches when he hears a thump. As his eyes readjust to the moonlight, he sees Steve has fallen back against the bedding. A moment later, he hears muffled laughter. Bucky exhales, shrugging his shoulder to relax his arm. Steve is still chuckling but he grunts when Bucky swings a leg over him to settle roughly on his hips. 

Bucky leans forward to rest his crossed arms on Steve’s chest. “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing.” Steve pulls him down, grinning against his lips. “C’mere.”

Bucky avoids that wrist for the rest of the trip, determined not to have any more interruptions. 

~~

Steve finds a flea market or street bazaar of some kind at one of the harbors they stop in, and Bucky reluctantly lets himself be dragged off the boat. It’s a cool day so no one gives them curious looks for wearing long-sleeved button down shirts. Before Bucky can hide his hand in his pocket, Steve catches it and intertwines their fingers. It’s their first sign of affection in public and although Steve tries to act casual, his nervous smile says he’s unsure of Bucky’s reaction. 

It takes Bucky a second to recover from his surprise but when he does, he squeezes the hand holding his, careful of the pressure. Steve’s shoulders relax immediately and his smile softens. There’s a look in his eyes that makes Bucky duck his head, all too aware of how open his own expression is. They stroll through the rows of stalls in an easy silence. 

Maybe it’s their time at sea and the calming effect of the ocean, or maybe it’s Steve’s hand wrapped around his, but Bucky doesn’t find the crowds as difficult to manage as he’d expected. He still checks his surroundings for possible threats--some habits will never die--but he feels none of the tension that dogged his steps in New York. He clings to that feeling like he grips Steve’s hand, hoping it will follow them home. 

~~

Although they never activate the bracelet again, Stark uses it to contact them when they’re not back at the end of a week. It’s a calm day and they’ve anchored off the coast to enjoy it. Steve’s reclined against Bucky’s chest, reading from his tablet, while Bucky stares out over the water, enjoying the quiet. 

The LED on the bracelet blinks twice before Stark’s voice breaks the silence. “So I’ve been thinking about reporting the boat as stolen but I’m not sure if the police will believe me when I say Captain America is the suspect.”

Steve chuckles and lifts his wrist. “We’re headed back, Tony. Just waiting for a good wind.” And then, because it’s _Steve_ , his voice takes on a serious note. “Has something come up?”

“No, no, just making sure you haven’t run off to Mexico, or been kidnapped by the latest world terrorist.” A pause. “Gotta say, Cap, it sounds like someone is enjoying himself.” Stark’s voice is inordinately pleased. 

“All right, Stark, so you had a good idea,” Bucky drawls. “Get one of your robots to pat you on the back.” 

He’s hoping for at least a couple seconds of stunned silence but the comment doesn’t phase Stark at all. “He speaks! And two whole sentences! JARVIS, make a note of this momentous occasion.” 

_“Certainly, sir.”_

“Let me know when you two are back in town and need a ride,” Stark continues. “Since, you know, you’ve figured out how to operate the bracelet.” His smirk is audible. It’s all too clear that Stark knows exactly what they were up to when they accidentally activated the device. 

“Goodbye, Tony,” Steve says firmly and frowns until the light goes off. He slumps against Bucky, covering his face with one hand. 

“What’re the chances that thing is on, even when the light isn’t?” Bucky muses and Steve groans. 

“Don’t say that, Buck.”

“I’m just wondering if Stark’s been listening in this whole time.”

Steve twists in Bucky’s lap to give him a look, and Bucky doesn’t even try to look innocent. Steve shakes his head, a sort of resigned amusement in his expression, but he doesn’t resist when Bucky drags him closer for a kiss. 

In fact, he’s looking a lot less innocent when he leans back to murmur, “So you’re saying we should put on a good show?”

“Now you’re talking.” 

~~

Their trip lasts a total of eleven days. Bucky’s pretty damn sure he’s never felt so relaxed or at peace in his whole life. It gives him hope that maybe someday he can come to terms with what he’s done in the years that have led to this moment. 

Their last night at sea, he wakes from a nightmare of blood and terrified faces to Steve mumbling reassurances, still half-asleep. Bucky struggles free of the blankets and crawls out of the cabin, to find everything is muted and still, awash with moonlight. Steve follows but says nothing, just sits down beside him and rests a hand on Bucky’s thigh. 

Bucky never would have thought the quiet would help--silence always seemed too loud before, filling with the echoes of his dreams--but there’s something to the sound of the sea. It’s not the constant crash of waves against sand, but a softer murmur, like a sigh or a breath going in and out. Between that and Steve’s steadying hand, Bucky calms enough to them to go back to sleep. 

He knows he won’t have the sea when they go home, but he’ll have the memories; he hopes that’s enough. 

~~

Steve contacts Stark on the final day so that he’s waiting when they get back. Bucky can see the bright red convertible parked at the end of the docks almost as soon as they enter the harbor. He helps Steve collect their things and together they tie down the sails so everything is secured until the next time Stark takes it out. As they walk away, Bucky casts a final look over his shoulder, smirking at the name. 

Bucky claims the back seat again, this time stretching across both seats with his feet propped up. The drive seems shorter this time, as Bucky closes his eyes and listens to Steve describe some of the places they visited. 

When they arrive, Bucky grabs his bag and starts for the entrance, giving Steve and Stark some space. He knows he should probably thank the man for loaning him the boat--not to mention flying them out there--but whatever he can think to say, Steve will say it better. 

He waits by the doors, watching as the two men shake hands. Steve tries to hand over the keys for the boat but Stark doesn’t take his hands out of his pockets to accept. There’s too much jet noise and people talking into cell phones for Bucky to eavesdrop, but as Stark talks, Steve’s face reflects shock, disapproval and then finally resignation. Stark claps him on the shoulder, all smiles, then waves at Bucky before hopping into the convertible and speeding away. 

“Everything all right?” Bucky asks when Steve catches up to him. 

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate. 

As the plane reaches cruising altitude, Bucky catches Steve toying with the keys. He watches for a moment, noting the indecisive look on Steve’s face and the way he worries his lower lip, and then snorts. The sound causes Steve to look up. 

“That wasn’t Stark’s boat, was it?” Bucky asks and Steve winces. 

“No,” he says, honest to a fault. “I mean, it wasn’t stolen, Tony bought it, but…” He sighs, shoulders drooping. “Apparently it was the team’s idea, and Tony offered to pay for the boat, but he said it’s ours now, whenever we want to come out and use it.” 

Bucky can see what Steve’s thinking, sees him wondering if Bucky will resent this manipulation of their lives and be soured on the whole experience. It would be easy to feel that way, after all he’s been through. But as Bucky stares at his hands in his lap, thinking about the last eleven days, he just can’t summon the anger. 

“You know he picked that boat on purpose, because of the name,” he says after a brief silence. 

“Probably.” 

“You have weird friends.”

Steve chuckles and the worry in his expression fades. “Won’t argue with you there.” 

They share a look and then Bucky shakes his head, still bewildered at the absurdity of this set-up. He finally says, “Don’t lose those keys, Rogers.” Steve’s hand closes tight around them in a silent promise. 

Bucky assumes the rest of the trip home will be quiet. Steve turns on the tv and flips through channels idly. He eventually settles on a movie that Bucky doesn’t recognize. It must be a recent release because the car chase looks impressively real. Bucky watches for a few minutes then heads to the back of the jet to use the bathroom. 

He’s washing his hands when he realizes he can hear the movie through the walls. It’s not clear, but it’s louder than it needs to be with Steve sitting right there. He opens the door, intending to make a joke about Steve’s hearing going, only to find the man standing right outside the door. 

Bucky startles but recovers quickly. He glances down the hall at the sitting area, where the movie plays on. “Hey, pal. Didn’t think I’d been in there long.” 

Steve is blushing, which should be Bucky’s first clue, but then he leans in, resting his forearm against the doorframe and asks, somewhat shyly, “Wanna tell me more about that mile high club?” 

Desire jolts through Bucky like a bolt of lightning. He fists a hand in Steve’s shirt and drags him into the bathroom so that he can slam the door shut and shove him against it. They’re both grinning like fools when their mouths meet and Steve kisses with a hunger that’s contagious, dragging a groan out of Bucky when he grabs his ass to haul him close. 

When Bucky finally pulls away, he tugs impatiently at Steve’s jeans. “Figure this can go on your list?”

Steve’s breathless laugh follows him to the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](http://stillwanderingflame.tumblr.com), if you want to say hi.


End file.
